


Skylines and Turnstiles

by violetlolitapop



Series: Bullets [7]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: along with the yoi one, i love killjoy aus and i should finish that one, i wrote this way before the main story, i'm working on things, jfc i'm awful, which i forgot the name of already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetlolitapop/pseuds/violetlolitapop
Summary: And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence?





	Skylines and Turnstiles

_ The sky had turned to blood. _

_ What was once a normal blue changed the moment the first set of bombings were unleashed upon the city - one right after another, with each explosion adding more crimson color to the darkened heavens. The clouds were no longer the white tufts decorating the skyline, instead they’ve been transformed to a shade of dull and lifeless grey, before turning black alongside the pillars of smoke extending upwards. Even the sun, which had been shining so brightly at the beginning of the day, had become nothing more than a rustic orange that melted easily into the new environment. _

_ The heavy atmosphere that had come to be, made the start of the Apocalypse that much clearer. _

_ Below in the city streets, crowds of people run wildly from the fires that flared madly and from the buildings that have begun to collapse and fall into nothing more than ruble. The majority of those who chose an attempt to escape an almost certain death cry out in sheer terror, as though their screams would do something to help them. Amongst the chaos, a pair of blue eyes pay witness to the gruesome scenes without a trace of fear. _

_ They blink away the dust that had been uplifted from the ground slowly, not in a hurry at all to run away like everyone else. Which they want to do, in all honesty - they want to close, want to stop seeing all this ruin, but with everyone gone… where is the motivation now? _

_ There isn’t any… a father gone… a mother crushed… a cousin half torn away just there to the side… there’s nothing left. _

_ There’s nothing left to do than to stay perfectly still and watch as they keep falling down, closer and closer, bathing oncoming Death in bright lights… _

Alfred wakes with a start.

He bolts straight up, his blankets falling off from him and pool around him while he desperately gasps for air and runs his hands over his sweaty face. He throws them off and quickly makes his way to the water basin on the other side of the room. He hangs his head over the bowl and splashes handfuls of water onto his face.

The jolt of cold shocks him enough that it begins to calm him down. He’s not struggling to breath so much now, and his heart isn’t threatening to jump out of his chest anymore. He gulps heavily and places his fingertips to his neck. It’s still beating faster than normal, but nowhere to how it felt before.

With a heavy sigh, he grips the edges of his little makeshift stand and lifts his head, letting the droplets of water clinging to his skin to slide off naturally as the thin slits of sunlight shine over his face from the cracks in the wall. He pushes himself away and makes his way back to bed. Not to sleep, though, he’s had enough of that, and he doubts he would be able to get any kind of rest after a memory like that coming back at him. Instead, he throws his sheets around to make it up a little, and picks up his glasses from the small ledge of the window sill above.

He puts them on carefully, blinks his vision clearer, and moves the threadbare curtain to the side so he can look out into their small outcasted community.

He’s instantly greeted with the sight of homes, huts, and shacks, made up much like his own one-room home made out of scavenged wood and discarded metal sheets. He can hear the sounds of the kids playing in the dust and dirt of the desert, and he can hear the barks of a small dog yapping along to them happily. He waves good morning (or good afternoon, he’s not actually sure what time it is) to some walking past him with water pails or tool boxes for car repairs or laundry that needs a good beating.

Suddenly, a sun-tanned hand comes into his view and slaps itself against Alfred’s forehead. He gives out a little shout, reels back and his hand instantly goes up to the spot that was hit.

“Morning, princess!” a familiar voice greets. “I thought you weren’t up yet.”

Matthew leans against his window frame from the outside, his blond hair pulled back into a short pony tail and dressed to the nines in an olive green denim jacket and black cargo pants, hie red ray gun nestled in a brown leather holster strapped around his thigh.

“Why you all decked out in your gear?” Alfred asks him, a greeting completely forgotten.

“Meeting up with some others at the car port,” Matthew tells him with a shrug. “We’re going into the city to do some damage, I guess. Not really sure, Arthur said he’d give us an explanation when we all got there.”

“You’re gonna do some damage and nobody thought to wake me up?!” Alfred runs a hand through his hair and lets out an annoyed huff. “And you really don’t know what’s going on?”

“It’s not that I don’t know what’s going on exactly,” Matthew confesses. “The only thing I was told was to hurry up and get as many as the others and he would meet us at the car port after he grabbed his bag of dynamite and stuff. He wants to explain what’s going on.”

“We’re blowing shit up! I live for this! What is it!?”

“I already told you, Arthur wants to explain all that. Ask him, if if you wanna know so bad, here he comes.”

Alfred moves closer to his window and leans outward to see him for himself. Sure enough he spots the shorter man coming closer to them dressed in his trademark plaid pants and frayed black leather jacket decorated with band patches from years ago. There’s a large duffel bad in his hand and a red bandit mask covering his eyes. He makes a straight beeline to where Matthew stands.

“Yo, Artie, baby, why didn’t you recruit me for whatever it is you’re gonna do?” Alfred asks once he’s close enough.

Arthur takes a stand next to Matthew and gives Alfred a weary glare for the unwanted nickname.

“I did come by to ask if you were interested,” he says. “But you were sleeping like the Battle of Texas couldn’t wake you.”

Alfred waves all that aside and says, “So what’re we blowing up this time? Patrol cars? Check points?”

“BLI’s main office,” Arthur tells him. “Right at the heart of the city.”

From the way he says it, there’s no doubt he figured Alfred would immediately jump at the opportunity. Alfred, however, says nothing for a moment. There’s a small from playing on his lips and his brows furrow in thought. He’s not exactly sure if he should be happy to hear this or not.

“Usually I’m all up for blowing shit up,” he tells him. “But we usually blow up low key stuff. Or places that only have Dracs. This is the middle of a bunch of civilian stuff.”

“That what I told him,” Matthew agrees and looks relieved. “Seems a bit much for ideals.”

“Ideals is what got us caught in this mess to begin with,” says Arthur. “But this is different. For one, it’s a controlled explosion. And two, it’s more of a diversion rather a random attack.”

“Diversion?” Alfred asks while Matthew mutters about how they should rethink their strategy all the same.

Arthur looks like he’s at a crossroads with telling the both of them just what he means exactly and just asking them all to meet at the carport like he originally wanted. Whatever that does go through his mind, happens quick. He makes his decision.

“I don’t want to rile too many people up because this is actually serious,” he tells them. “I don’t know how big of a backlash this will get, but we’re keep the parents quiet, but that just means we need to go through with this.”

“You’re kind of scaring me,” Alfred says. “I’m not gonna lie.”

Arthur sighs, and it’s real heavy one. “Timo was caught last night with Lukas’s brother and some of the kids from the school. They were having an outdoor class on making sun still and telling solar time when a wagon ambushed them. Emil was able to get away, he told us immediately.”

There's a roar of static that rushes through Alfred's ears and it's all he can hear. Various scenes flash through his mind - labs, re-education, white rooms, scattering pills on white tile floors, and full white jumpsuits with black smiling faces in place to make everyone look the same. His face contorts with anger, and righteously so.

“What the fuck?!” he shouts. “You're keeping this quiet?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Alfred,” Matthew hushes him, looking around to see if anyone else is listening. “Alfred, calm down!”

“No! Don’t tell me to calm down! They took the kids! Do you-!” He hits the side of his window. “Neither one of you understands what they do to kids in that  _ fucking _ city! We need to get them.”

“No shit,” Arthur says. “I'm not going to argue my strategy with you right now, but I know it's a fucked up situation! I don't need you telling me that. So just grab your shit, and let's go!”

He stalks off after that, his shoulders squared up with determination and strides away with purpose. Matthew quickly sets off after him to keep up.

“Don’t forget your mask!” he shouts back at Alfred, holding up his own tie-dyed scrap of fabric before spinning around and taking off.

Alfred doesn’t bother to watch them stalk off towards the car port, he quickly goes into battle mode and rushes away from the window to get dressed. He leaves his white undershirt on, the fading stains that never seem to come off not bothering him in the slightest and pulls on a pair of red colored jeans. He throws on an old brown bomber jacket over himself, makes sure that his gun is tucked in the inside pockets, and once his boots are laced, he snatches up the black bandanna hanging by the door frame and races out into the shining sun.

**Author's Note:**

> -i honestly don't remember what my hetalia killjoy au was called and that is an actual tragedy it's 2019 for godsake
> 
> -i have to rewrite that soon
> 
> -because i will finish it
> 
> -IT'S A KILLJOY AU!!!


End file.
